Pretend Hero
by Sophellie
Summary: USxUK angsty romance. First submission to this site, and I disappointed myself with it majorly. Lots of fail grammar, sorry. Alfred and Arthur get in another fight, and Alfred knows he messed up badly and he'll need to straighten himself out.


**-Introduction.-**

Heroes don't fuck up. Heroes don't have regrets. Heroes don't let their happiness rely on one single person.

For my whole life, although short, I've been trying to convince myself I'm a hero. Oh, how wrong I was. Oh, how badly I messed up...

* * *

**-Part one.-**

It started Tuesday. Arthur and I were just having a pointless, silly argument. "No," I growled into his ear, wrapping my arms around his waist eagerly. "It's so much more than just beating people up for fun. There's so much sto-" I was cut off by the sudden pressure of warm lips against mine. I returned the kiss instantly, heart racing. To my utter dissapointment, however, Arthur quickly pulled away, and I was left standing there hugging thin air, and I'm sure I looked rather foolish.

"You lie. I've sat throu-" He started, but I just grinned and knew I would be able to get him good with this one. "I believe you meant slept." He narrowed his beautiful green eyes, and I felt myself getting lost in the different specks of green. Once again, though, he decided to make me suffer and looked away quickly. My grin slowly turned into a frown. We had just been cuddling, but suddenly he was being so weird. Usually I'd have him naked by now.

"Arth-" I started, stepping forward at the same time. I had to figure out what his problem was this time. I was cut off with a harsh glance, however. Seeing him pissed off at me caused so much pain, even though it's a sight I'd grown pretty used to "What?" I asked desperately, my curiosity and annoyance getting the better of me. "I'm sick of this lecture. Could we please just... Not?" His gaze softened as he said this, and for some reason it pissed me off. I don't know why, I just suddenly wanted to scream at him. "No! Why do you always do this? We can't have one fucking conversation without you insulting me or what I like in some way. I try to defend myself? You just get more pissed off!" The words exploded from my mouth before I could stop them, and I my hand quickly shot up as if I could suddenly make them go away. They didn't, though, so I just looked down slowly and waited for my world to explode.

The explosion never came, unfortunately. After I was sure that there wasn't going to be one, I slowly looked up. I was met with a pissed off gaze which brought a strange ache to my heart. The explosion would definitely have been worse. My anger grew, although I'm not even sure if I was pissed off at him anymore. "God damnit, what's with you? Why don't you fucking say something?" I asked in a much harsher tone than I was hoping for. "Fine, Alfred. You bloody git. I'm sick of you and everything about you. I wish you would just LEAVE. Is that what you want to hear!?" He spat each word out like venom, that ache growing much more pronounced. In fact, each word felt like an icy dagger stabbing into my chest, and the pain just made me more furious. At this point, I knew I was just pissed off at myself, which just made me want to get out of there. "Fine, I should leave. I've been wanting to for days now. I guess the feeling is mutual, so I better fucking go!" In truth, I most certainly wanted to leave, but not for that reason. I knew that if I stayed I'd end up hurting myself and Arthur even more, and some sane part of me reminded me that I've hurt him enough. I took a moment to take in his expression and show him how angry I was, before spinning on my heels and walking over to our- no, his room.

Not even five minutes later I returned, with my backpack slung over my shoulder and stuffed with some of my clothes. I knew I'd be back soon, so I didn't need to bother with grabbing them all. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew I'd break and be over here by morning, apologizing desperately. Arthur glared at me, and then the bag. "So you really are finally leaving, then?" It took me a moment to register what he'd said, I made the mistake of allowing myself to drink in his appearance one last time. "I guess I fucking am." He nodded slowly and walked over to the door. "Very well then, hero." The word hero hurt me more than anything else in this, and he saw my pain, which made him look even more pissed off for some reason.

Suddenly there was a fierce pain in the left side of my face, and it took me a second to realize he had slapped me. "What's taking so long, hero?" I saw stars, but knew I'd have to respond. "I don't know. " I was already out the door when I said this, and was blessed with the reply of a door being slammed in my face.  
I spent that night in a hotel, as you may have guessed. I planned on going back Wednesday morning and apologizing, this had happened many times before. We just needed our space, some time to sleep it off.

I did go back on Wednesday morning, although nothing went how I planned it.

* * *

**-Part two.-**

I walked into the familiar house, smiling at the sight of a picture of Arthur and I hanging on a wall nearby. I walked into the kitchen, surprised that Arthur wasn't sitting at the table, tea in one hand and book in the other. He'd always woken up much earlier than me, so it was a sight I'd grown accustomed to. Taking slow and silent steps I crept up the stairs, careful not to make any noise in case Arthur was sleeping like I had guessed.

After a brief moment of hesitation, I opened the door to Arthur's room. Anger ripped through me as I took in an awful sight: Arthur naked, curled up to an also nude Francis, both of them sleeping peacefully. My anger faded into guilt, fear, betrayal, and sadness, all of these mixing into some awful pit feeling that I'd never experienced before. I felt like I had been ripped in half, had some hole ripped in my center, and then my body just got smashed together again in a way that wasn't completely right, and now I had to deal with the pain and emptiness of this new hole.

I stood there for a few more seconds, not being able to keep my eyes off of the horrid sight that was sure to haunt me for weeks, months, or years to come. I was overcome with emotion, I didn't think, I only reacted. I couldn't deal with it, and so I ran. I paid no attention to how much noise I made or if I had closed the door or not. My legs carried me, and I had no objections.

I found myself sprawled out in a ditch, tears streaming down my face endlessly. I'm not sure how long I spent there, but at some point I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Arthur standing above me wearing only a pair of jeans that quite obviously weren't his, and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He looked so upset and scared, which just killed me. At this moment I knew I had screwed up, I knew that I was going to need to get out of there and fix myself up, or never bother him with my awful presence again.

"Alfred, I-..." He started, but I got up and shook my head. "No, don't apologize." I said quietly. I'd like to say I kept my cool, and was mature, and calmly left, but that was not the case. This is when things took the worst turn. "No, I-" He started again, but at this point his excuses and apologies were the last things I wanted to hear. "Please, just stop." I said in a bit of a harsher tone, patience gone. "God, I understand what you want. I'm not stupid, I've been lying to myself this whole time but won't anymore. I don't even fucking blame you for hating me, I actually don't see any good reasons at all for you not to." My voice slowly rose, I let myself get carried away with the words.

Arthur just stared at me for a few moments, before letting out a shaky sigh. "You're so wrong, Alfred. I lo-" Hearing the beginning of those three wretched words was enough to set me off. I don't know why I didn't just up and leave, I had to make it hard for myself. "Stop it, Arthur. I'm done, okay? Have fun with your new lover, and please do not fucking think I care. Because to be honest, I hate you. I hate everything about you, and I am so done." By now I was screaming, and the tears had come back. I looked down at the rose I had brought for him, and squeezed it, ignoring the fact that a thorn stabbed into my palm and caused my hand to bleed. "You can fucking have this, too!"

At this point, Arthur was completely silent. He just watched me carefully, those green eyes full of both fear and regret. Seeing this just got me much more angry with myself, and so I directed all of that anger at England. "You fucking coward, it's just like yesterday. Why won't you say anything? Don't think I fucking want to hear it this time, because I don't." I dropped the rose and shook my head slowly. "Don't call. And, I won't be back, believe me." I turned around and began walking off, and behind me I heard a soft "I won't."

* * *

**-Part three.-**

It had been two months. Two months since I left that wasteland, and came back to my own. Two months that I spent doing nothing but eating pizza and watching movies, letting my sadness consume me. Two months that I could be spending fixing myself up. Instead, I let my pain eat me. I let it control me. But one morning, I woke up covered in sweat and tears, and I knew that it was time I start fixing myself up.

"Now, you're going to pick that phone up, call him, and apologize. You will ask him how he's doing, and be polite." I bit my lip, and the pain in my chest deepened as I thought about needing to hear his voice. Was he happy? Had he thought about me? No, no more asking myself these questions. I'd have to just find out for myself, I couldn't put this off any longer. My thumbs fumbled on the keys, and without giving it a second thought I hit talk.

One ring. What am I doing?

Two rings. He won't answer, he's happy now.

Three rings. I'm an idiot, why did I even consider doing this?

"Hello?" The world stopped. Suddenly, that hole gaping hole was so much more pronounced again. "Hello..?" He sounded so happy, so careless. How could I have thought he maybe missed me? I was such a fool. "Hi." I said in my cheeriest voice possible, I couldn't let him know how fucked up I had gotten. "Oh! Hello, Alfred. I was wondering how you were." His voice cracked, but I thought nothing of it. Voices cracked sometimes, it just happened. Why would he be upset? He had gotten rid of me, after all. "Well, I've been pretty good." My voice was higher than normal, and I felt a familiar lump in the back of my throat. What was I doing? He was okay, this is all I had to know. "So... Was there anything you needed?" He sounded impatient, and I couldn't help but notice a hint of sadness. Something must have been going on between him and Francis. "Oh, no. I just wanted to make sure-..." I cut myself off when the pain in my chest grew so it was almost unbearable, and suddenly it was like I could almost feel his touch again. That's when I realized why I had called, and how much I needed him to know the truth. I wouldn't bother him anymore, maybe, but telling him I was okay was just too much.

"I don't know what I'm saying, Iggy... I miss you so much. I just called to tell you that, and that I'm sorry, and that I hope you're happy." The words came straight from my heart, I let myself speak loudly and clearly for the first time in what seemed like forever. For the two months prior to that, I had hardly spoken besides the occasional "I'm fine." Or "Thanks."

I waited, and waited, and waited for a response. Each passing second felt like an eternity. In reality, I don't think it took much more than two seconds for him to respond, but to me that felt like enough time for hell to freeze over and for a new world to begin. "I miss you too, Alfred... I don't know why I ever did anything with France, but I do know that I regret it."

After this, we just talked for hours, about nothing in particular. Silly experiences we'd had, our future, how much we had missed each other, how sorry we were, and everything in between. We both laughed, and we both cried during that conversation. By the time we had hung up, we agreed that I would come back to England, and we would work things out. As soon as I hung up I bought a plane ticket, and then I took a walk, and I was happy.

* * *

Three days later, I arrived on the doorstep to a familiar house. I took in a deep breath, letting my eyes drift shut for a moment. Images of that charming grin, and those green eyes popped into my mind, and so I opened my eyes again. I looked down and scanned my appearance carefully, before pulling the Daffodil I had picked up from some gift shop in the airport. I read on Google that a Daffodil expresses respect, trust, and love, and I didn't show Arthur enough of that before. Holding the small flower in my right hand, I slowly brought my left up and knocked twice.

Hearing foot steps somewhere inside of the house, I let out a small breath. Only a few more seconds, and I'd see him. Nervous isn't the right word for how I felt, because I knew that he had missed me, too. I wasn't confident, either. I was plainly anticipating the moment that I got to see him, and hoping for the best. The foot steps got closer, and another breath escaped my lips. They were only a few feet away now. Why couldn't I breathe? I could hear the handle turning, and I managed to take in another breath, eyes shooting up again. I watched as the door slowly opened, Arthur coming into view. I felt my knees go weak as I took in his smile, and my heart stopped again when I let myself look into his eyes.

It took everything in me, but I managed to stand up straight, breathe normally, and I even found words. "I missed you so much, Arthur." His smile grew as I said this, and he took a small step forward. He noticed the flower in my hand, and so I just held it out to him. His smile grew even bigger as he took the flower and put it in his back pocket. "Well, Alfred, it's safe to say that I missed you, too." At this point I just gave in to temptations, and closed the space between us, wrapping him into a tight hug.

Feeling Arthur in my arms again was the most beautiful feeling I have ever experienced. I knew that things were better between us, even if it was very possible that it'd only be temporary. At that moment, all there was was love. The previous two months taught me just how much I needed him, and I knew that he had been in pain the whole time, too. Don't get me wrong, the idea of him being in pain is almost unbearable to me, but I just knew that he had felt the same way.

* * *

This all happened four months ago, and to this day both Iggy and I regret what had happened and how we treated each other. We agreed that we'd just start completely fresh, and things are going great. I think that it will stay that way, too. We're both more willing to accept our differences and just talk things through, rather than scream at each other. We haven't gotten into any serious arguments or fights, for which I am glad. These have been the best four months of my life, and I am looking forward to seeing what becomes of us.


End file.
